Just Roll With It: a Just Us novel (17 page)

"What are we doing now?" I ask, still breathy from laughing.

"Cuddling, of course."

"Oh, are we?"

"Yep. A good snuggle is good for the soul. Plus, I heard cuddling relieves anxiety and strengthens your immune system," he proudly tells me.

"Is that so? And how exactly does that work?"

"Well, anxiety and stress are directly related to giving a shit, and when I am cuddling with you, I don't seem to give a shit about anything else."

"Good, ‘cause I think I like cuddling with you too," I admit.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah you’re pretty cozy."

"Cozy?"

"Yep. Like yoga pants and sweat shirt cozy."

"Nice. You compared me to your yoga pants."

"My
favorite
pair of yoga pants."

"You are no longer allowed to own more than one pair of yoga pants ever again."

I gasp over dramatically and yell, "Blasphemy!"

"Did you just cry blasphemy?" He bursts out a short laugh. "I'll show you blasphemy, start comparing mine and Thor's magic hammers again." 

I really couldn't give a play-by-play on how talk of Thor's magic hammer led us here, but it's safe to say when Bee said she, "Had a thing for Thor. A very big thing", she was not exaggerating.

Talk of the magic hammer turned into talk of magic meat hammers, which turned into a blow job. Okay, so I guess I could give a play-by-play after all.

But that's beside the point. What I was trying to say, is I cannot for the life of me comprehend how exactly
this
happened. I knew Rigbee was less experienced and was bound to have a few "firsts" with me, but what I didn't expect was for me to also experience a "first" tonight.

"Fuck, that feels good."

I lower my head as I come down to give an appreciative gaze to the girl below. I take in the sight before me and the reality of the situation has me standing there wide-eyed and stunned. It's not a secret how most guys find it incredibly hot when a girl looks like they gag, but right now, is not that.

I watch the white spray out of her nose in the exact way you would expect milk to if you laughed or coughed while trying to swallow. Obvious she was trying to swallow, but the shit is definitely not milk.

It takes about a half of a second to realize she is actually choking and struggling to breathe and then I jerk into action. Pun—a happy accident but unintended. I grab a towel to hold against her mouth and catch whatever is left in her lungs that did not come out her nose, and I gently pat and rub circles on her back until her reflexes calm.

When I think she is able to speak again I ask her, "How exactly did that happen?"

"Oh, you know. I decided to say fuck it, I'm going to try and breathe cum." She shrugs nonchalantly.

My mouth falls open, and I gape at her, eyebrows up and all.

She looks at me and rolls her eyes. "Not really," she clarifies and then throws the towel at me, "I just kept going. I could tell you were getting close and so I kept going without stopping for a breath, but eventually, I had to. I like, involuntarily gasped for air right as … well, you know." She waves a hand at my junk and then does the exploding gesture you make when you blow up a fist pump. Pun still unintended, and still a happy accident.

"And you breathed it in?"

"Yep. Went down the wrong pipe, and I sort of choked on it. Thus, causing the um … nose explosion."
Ouch
.

"Are you okay?" I'm feeling really bad for her right now. That went downhill fast. I expected tonight to go much different when she told me she wanted to try head for the first time.

"I will be, but right now my lungs burn like a bitch." She coughs once more before she asks the question I was hoping she wouldn't, "Does that ever happen? Have you ever seen that happen before?"

"Actually, no. I have not had the pleasure." I grin and hope she too can find humor in the fucked up way tonight went.

"Then I think it's safe to assume you do, in fact, have a magic hammer."

She's so ridiculous I have to breathe out a loud laugh. Not every day do you find yourself a girl who's both willing to give you head and talk about comic books at the same time. She would be any nerd boy's wet dream.

"You hear that, Thor, you have met your match! I am worthy." I throw my arms up in triumph.

"Actually, hate to break it to you, but I'm pretty sure it would be me who is worthy," she sounds proud as she corrects me. "I was the one wielding the damn thing."

After her statement, I begin to see Bee in a whole new light. Not because she gave me my first dragon, yes dragon is what it is really called, but because she did it with such class.
Okay, scratch that, bad example.
Got through it so … gracefully?
Nope, that doesn't sound right, either.
 

I wake up the next morning to the sound of loud laughing. Loud
man
laughing. The noise is odd because looking over next to me is Roman, and he is still tangled in my sheets and snoring his hot little head off. There it is again. What is going on out there?

Barefoot and sleepy-eyed, I sloppily walk out of my room to catch Lyle and Enzo sitting at the kitchen table, talking about something they must think is funny. Lyle is drinking what I assume is my coffee, since Enzo doesn't drink much of it, and Enz is eating a bowl of Captain Crunch.

"Morning, sunshine!" they both yell at me, almost eerily in unison.

"Coffee. Now." I yawn, and Enz hands me a mug filled with my bitter black bliss.

"I don't know how you drink the shit black like that," Lyle says while he makes a face.

"Pussy," I call him, right before I take a gigantic gulp out of the steaming cup.

The coffee is still too hot, and I scorch the back of my mouth. I'm breathing fire after I decide to swallow instead of spit back out what was in my mouth to relieve the pain. Bad idea, especially after the burning in my throat I still have from last night. Lesson learned.

"Son of a mother fucker!" I yell to no one in particular.

"Too hot?" Lyle says with a grin. " Karma, for that mouth of yours."

"My thwoat huwrts," I try to say while waving my hand back and forth toward my mouth.

My bedroom door opens with a click, and we all three turn to see Roman dragging himself out in nothing but his boxer briefs, en route to the bathroom.

"Yeah, and I'll bet your knees do too," Lyle jokes.

Roman comes out of the bathroom, and he must've heard the jist of our conversation, because he replies with, "Hey, now, I put a pillow down for padding to soften the
blows
."

Enzo laughs again and it is then, in the exact moment, I fully recognize the irony in that I, of all people, am living with three men. Dirty, raunchy, messy men. 

I am starting to notice a trend. One I am not very fond of. Roman, Lyle, and I hang out almost every day. We're either at my apartment, school, or having coffee at The Coney. That part I like. That's not the bad thing. The bad part is coming. Well, not
coming
coming, I like that part very much. No, what's pissing me off is being here home alone in my bedroom at ten-thirty on a Saturday night.

We do stuff during the day, Lyle, Roman, and me. We always do the same thing, and always with just us three. Then they have the nerve to tell me stories about their other friends I have yet to meet. They leave the apartment Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturday nights to go to parties, and not once have I been invited. They leave and then come back at three or four in the morning.

I always get Roman when he is here, and I haven't slept alone an entire night since I don't even remember when, so why am I not ever invited to go with them? Is he embarrassed of me? The worst part is they have no shame when it comes to talking about it in front of me.

For example, earlier today at The Coney when Roman mentioned the hotel party they were going to tonight.

"Today is Law-man's 23rd birthday, dude," he said.

"For real?"

"Yeah, he's having everyone over at the Marriott later."

"Sweet, want me to invite Nina?" Lyle asked.

"Yeah, man. Sure, I haven't seen her in ages."

What! So it's okay for some girl friend of theirs to go. No, not only okay for her to go, they are excited to invite her because they haven't seen her in ages!
W-T-F?
I gave them both a glare, and they didn't even look guilty. In fact, they looked completely oblivious to the fact they were doing anything wrong. I mean-mug Roman and he leans over, gives me a kiss on the cheek, and then asked me if I want another coffee. He's completely clueless.

The waitress we have tonight is one we often get. I know she has a crush on Roman, too. She is always ignoring me and giving Roman mushy gushy faces, winking and flipping her hair and shit. She even had the audacity to mistake me for Lyle’s girlfriend when she asked him if he wanted her to put his girlfriend's drinks on his bill, even though she knows I always sit and snuggle on Roman’s side of the booth. She walks toward the table and her face lights up like a Christmas tree when Roman waves her over.

"Bug here is in need of a refill please, oh and no need for more cream and sugar, she drinks it black. Thanks. A refill's all," he finishes as she lingers a moment too long.

She walks away in a huff, no doubt disappointed in how Roman purposely acknowledged me as his. Roman has his arm around me and is rubbing his knuckles up and down my back. I have no doubt he likes me and wants me to be his, so I am at a serious loss for what the hell is going on with not bringing me with him on the weekends. What I do know is it's seriously pissing me off and as oblivious as he his now, he will soon know about how much.

I hear the door open and I rush to the hallway in my PJs to see if Roman's home. I don't know why he would be back so early, but part of me hopes it's because he realized his mistake and came back to invite me to go with him.

"Oh, it's just you,'' I say, with deep disappointment when I see Enzo strut through the living room toward the kitchen.

"Yeah, just me. Hey, remember way back when, when you used to be excited I walked through your door? Whatever happened to those days, huh?" He's not upset, just curious.